The Loudest Heist
by Shoe2kill506th
Summary: What do you get when you mix guns, cars, and the most dysfunctional family in Royal Woods ? Seven of the best/worst bank robbers the world will ever come to know.


**A/N: This one I got inspired to write after watching **_**Baby Driver. **_**If there is a deeper story here, I don't know what it is yet. Mostly I just like the idea of Luna, Lynn and Lori robbing a bank dressed as slasher killers. I wrote it mostly due to my writers block with the other stories I'm working on. I don't own the Loud House.**

It could be argued that teaching my older sister how to drive was the best thing to ever happen to me. What had started as a means to an end in order to get someone to drive me to the comic book store without any strings attached, slowly turned into an obsession to get behind the wheel myself. If a ditzy girl like Leni could learn by riding a lawnmower through people's yards at age sixteen, why couldn't I learn by practicing with an actual car at age eleven?

I've always been fascinated by cars, played every racing video game I could get my hands on, and often daydreamed about the day my dad would pass Vanzilla down to me. When I turned sixteen in five years, that is. Five. Long. Agonizing years. Four and a half, if I could get my driver's permit by then, but even still; learning how to drive sooner rather than later was just one itch that I had to scratch. And scratch that itch I did.

With the help of Luna's roadie, Chunk, and the gall to actually try something this crazy, the two of us would take the British man's van everyday afterschool to the most isolated parking lots we could find. He'd grown up driving on the left side of the road in his hometown of Liverpool, England, but had gotten the hang of driving yank cars on yank roads after living here for the last ten years.

I would study the drivers ed handbook and we would practice the basics; turning, parking, signaling, the usual crap. I learned all of this while sitting on a stack of Lisa's quantum physics books, so I could see the road in front of me. She let me keep them, claiming it was too light of a read for her.

When we were done with that, we moved onto cruising down small back roads in the countryside. That was all fine for me, but I wanted more. Needed more. The great thing about having white hair is that I'm periodically mistaken for an old man, so when cops drove by us during the day and they saw the snow on the roof, they never suspected a thing. Turns out? I could drive like a demon, and when night came and everyone was asleep, that demon would come out, and it made the open road my playground.

Needless to say, when Luna found out, she wasn't happy with her bandmate for teaching me something most would consider dangerous at such a young age. But when she saw what I could do, the art I could make with skid marks on the asphalt and the exhaust fumes I could emit from a busy tailpipe, her concern faded. Suddenly she had a solution to me and my families problems.

…...

It could be argued that teaching my older sister how to drive was the worst thing that ever happened to me. Dangit, I had plans for my driving; stunt driver, race car driver, military escort, shit, delivering pizzas sounded more enticing at times. I pulled up to the curb across the street of our main objective in the red Subaru Impreza we "borrowed" last week, silencing the ever screaming angel on my right shoulder. I had been trying to drown it out by blaring music through Luna's purple hand-me-down ipod-nano. I paused _George Baker's "Little Green Bag"_ and pulled out one of my earbuds to hear what my sister's were talking about.

"... still don't see why we don't change things up for once and hit up the Great Lakes City Art Museum." Lynn pointed out from the backseat, "Art goes for a lot to anyone who's willing to pay top dollar."

"No way, bruh. I'd feel bad for ruining some tourists day." Luna answered sitting next to her, "First time in the city and they got some chick waving a piece in their face? It leaves a bad impression."

"I s'pose…"

"Besides, we're not really the 'artsy' type…"

"Alright, enough chatter," my oldest sister said sitting next to me. She turned to face my other sisters her expression as commanding as the tone in her voice, "We all remember our jobs?"

"Uh-huh." Luna confirmed.

"You bet." I replied, forcing my best smile.

"Uhhh…", Lynn trailed off, "I _maaay_ have spaced out at the briefing."

"Ugghh… fine I'll go over it _again_; Luna, you guard the door, Lynn you're crowd control, I'll introduce myself to the bank manager. We get in, we get out, then we meet Leni and Luan in the industrial district. Lisa, you copy?" she asked putting a gloved hand to her earpiece.

"_Affirmative," _her lispy voice sounding through the private channel we shared.

"How's that distraction coming?"

"_Currently underway. You should expect local law enforcement to pass you by in 3… 2… "_

A stampede of seven squad cars turned the corner behind us and zipped right past where we were parked. Their sirens blared and their lights flashed, the officers focus on reaching the site of the emergency bomb threat they had just been dispatched to moments ago. That's one way to ruin a quiet Saturday afternoon.

"_Dangit… off by a millisecond... "_

"No worries. Good job, Lise. Leni, Luan, is the truck in position?"

"_Copy that, Yoga-Farts."_

"_Wait, I thought we were talking to Lori? Who's Yoga-Farts?"_

"WE THREW OUT OUR CODE NAMES AFTER THE _LAST_ JOB, LU, AND I NEVER AGREED TO BE CALLED 'YOGA-FARTS!'." Lori shouted. It was moments like that that made me question why I ever wanted to be in charge of my siblings in the past. "Lincoln," she said turning to me, "... you just sit here and listen to some music and be ready to shift gears. We'll be back in ten minutes, okay?"

I nodded.

"And Lynn?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't shoot anyone this time." Lori glowered.

"The guard was reaching for his gun!"

"He was scratching his LEG!", Lori countered.

"Ehh… he ain't scratching much now…", Luna muttered, loading a magazine into her AR-15. Don't worry, she didn't kill him, but the Social Security Administration got one more unhappy client.

"Alright guys… ready?" Lori asked popping a clip into my Pop-Pop's M1911.

We all nodded. The truth is, I've never felt ready for a job before, and I don't think Luna, Lynn or the others have either. But our baby sister was sick, my family had some debts to pay, and I was the only one that could get us away from a crime scene faster than most people can blink. You did what you had to do for your family.

"Bring it in…" Lori said extending a closed fist. The four of us touched our knuckles together. "... now blow it up...", and just as quickly, fluttered our hands away in reaction to the invisible explosion.

My sisters exited the vehicle, their game faces looking way better than mine did. In moments like these, I normally didn't have anything to say to them. I fully expected them to come back just like every other time, but this time I did have something important to say to Lori. Something that couldn't wait.

"Waitwaitwaitwaitwait!" I cried pulling out one of my earbuds and grabbing her arm.

"What?" she asked one leg hanging out of the door.

"... can you see if they have one of those two-headed silver dollars that Two-Face uses in the _Batman_ comics?"

"... why?"

I shrugged. "I've always wanted one for my coin collection."

A few seconds went by, her expression shifting from slight confusion, then into a small smile. "... okay. I'll check," she said, leaning forward and kissing me on the forehead. The door slammed shut and I was left in the car by myself. Who says my sisters don't love me?

With that, I popped my earbuds back in and the intro riff to _Red Hot Chili Peppers_ _"Can't Stop"_ began to tickle my eardrums. I thought it was a rather fitting song as I watched my three trench coat clad sisters slowly marched up the concrete steps of the Great Lakes City first National Bank, duffle bags slung over their shoulders.

Part of me wanted to keep looking, but Lori had made me promise that I would never watch her and my other sisters do their dirty work. I didn't see her point. I was just as guilty as them for the jobs we'd pulled and the one we were about to.

…...

Lynn donned her Jason Voorhees hockey mask. Luna turned into Freddy Kruger. I pulled Michael Meyer's ugly mug out of my black trenchcoat and slipped it on, the scent of the cheap rubber mask invading my nostrils. The _Halloween_ Michael Meyers, not the _Austin Powers_ Mike Meyers. We were professionals, after all.

We walked through the office like glass doors, and into the main lobby, nobody paying us a second glance yet. The bank was semi crowded today, about seven customers waiting in line, and three tellers that I could see standing behind the wide counter. It was time to go to work. The blast of Lynn's twelve gauge blowing a hole in the plaster ceiling elicited shrieks of surprise from the few people in her general proximity. The next shrieks came from everyone else when they took in our appearance and they realized what was about to happen.

"BANK ROBBERY, ASSHOLES!" Lynn shouted, discharging her spent shell. "GET THE _FUCK_ ON THE FLOOR, NOW!"

**A/N: You're probably wondering why it ended there. The simple answer? I need to do more research on bank robberies and car chases. When will I update it? Good question. Probably sometime between me getting discharged from the psych ward I'm currently writing this in, and finding a cure for my chronic depression.**


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